


Above The Clouds Of Pompeii

by JohnMyBeloved



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Elia and Rhaegar are friends, F/M, Jon Stark-Targaryen, M/M, Modern AU, Ned and Rhaegar are friends, Ned is a good uncle, Rhaegar can't cope without Lyanna, Robert Baratheon is a dick, post Lyanna's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 09:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnMyBeloved/pseuds/JohnMyBeloved
Summary: " I was too young to understand the flowers slipping from your hand. I was too young to understand the flowers sleeping in her hands. "//The story of how a mother's death tears apart father and son and how love brings when back together.[ based on the song "above the clouds of pompeii" by bear's den ][ modern father-son au ]





	Above The Clouds Of Pompeii

**Author's Note:**

> Link to the song which this one shot is based upon.
> 
> Above The Clouds of Pompeii - Bear's Dem   
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pGXBR1wR-mo

"Papa, where is mama?" The raven haired child stumbled into the kitchen and pulled on the leg of his father's black suit trousers.

Rheagar sniffed and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled softly at his eight year old son. The blond ruffled Jon's hair and picked him up, not caring about the expensive red and black suit that he was currently wearing although it was his best.

The father glanced at the buzzing phone on the countertop but allowed it to ring out, he had no desire to speak to anyone other than his children and with the other two staying at their mother Elia's, Rhaegar's ex-wife, Jon seemed to be the first person whom Rhaegar could tell about the grave news that tore at his heart.

He held the young boy close and chuckled at the way Jon burrowed his face into his neck. Rhaegar stroked the boy's back slowly and breathed in the smell of his hair; the thick smell of the winter rose scented shampoo enveloped him.

Rhaegar held onto Jon tighter and kissed the boy's forehead before placing him back onto the ground. He held his son's hand within his own large, pale hand and squatted down to be eye level with the boy. Jon stared at his father with his wide, dark, innocent eyes.

He was the opposite of Rhaegar but the mirror image of his mother. Where Rhaegar had long and silky blond locks (so blond it looked silver), Jon had a thick mane of unruly black curls. Jon's eyes were so dark that they seemed to be glowing coals in the sun, when Rhaegar's were borderline of violet. But Jon seemed to possess his quiet and well tempered attitude.

Rhaegar cupped his son's face in his face and weakly smiled at him and gulped, preparing himself to speak.

"Papa, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Jon said in worry and held onto the cuff of his father's shirt. The way the small child looked at Rhaegar made his heart swell with such a large amount of love that he couldn't even comprehend how he had been blessed with such a child as Jon.

"Oh Jonny, I'm okay. I need to tell you something and I need you to be a big boy for me, okay? Can you act like a big strong boy for me?" Rhaegar spoke in a soft, whispering tone and watched and Jon nodded nervously but with truth.

"Aye, papa. I can do that," he said in the same northern accent as his mother and the entirety of her family. Rhaegar's voice in comparison was one of southern state of the Crownlands; it seemed that although the child had been born and raised in the south, Lyanna's and the Starks' influence seemed to have made an impact on the boy's accent.

"Ok, Jonny. I have to tell you something about Mama: she's... she's not coming h-home," Rhaegar choked on his agony and held the boy tightly as he tried to make sense of the information.

"What d'you mean, mam isn't coming home? Did you argue? D-does mam not love me anymore? Have I been bad, papa?" Jon looked at Rhaegar fearfully with tears forming at the corners at his eyes. Rhaegar desperately shook his head and embraced the crying boy and stroked his back to calm him.

Rhaegar spoke sincerely, "no, no, Jonny. It's not your fault, never think that. Your mother loved you so much, and she loved me and your siblings. It's no one's fault, my child. We always said that mama was the daughter of the Old Gods, and the Old Gods want their daughter back."

"So mam is dead?" Jon's voice was a pained whisper. Rhaegar slowly nodded and waited for his son's reaction. "No. No! No, Papa! Mama can't be dead, no! I want her back, I want her back now, papa! She said she'd go to my school and I'd be able to show her off to the other kids. I want my mama, I want my mama now!" He bawled and screamed, tears streaming down his reddened face. He pulled himself into the now crinkled shirt of his father and cried fierce sobs into his chest.

Rhaegar threw his arms around Jon and carefully picked him up in his arms so he could walk into the living room to sit on the soft, grey sofa. Lyanna's blanket still lay draped over the armrest; a thick, grey piece of the softest material that had been embroidered with Snow White direwolves by her mother after she announced that she was pregnant with Jon. With one arm clutching his son, Rhaegar reached out with the over and wrapped it around the two of them.

"I'm so sorry, Jonny. I'm so sorry," he choked and held onto the boy tighter than he ever had before; his last piece of Lyanna. Jon shook a little less but still held onto his father like a baby monkey.

"How did it happen, papa?" He whispered so lightly that Rhaegar could've mistaken it as a breeze from the open window. Rhaegar ran over what the conversation that he'd had with the police man some hours before, he couldn't tell his son the bare truth, he didn't deserve that, Jon didn't deserve to have his life ruined by the bitter need for revenge and the soul twisting pain of fury. Nor did he wish his son to have the mental image of the pure truth ingrained in his mind.

Rhaegar's arms pulled away from Jon for a moment as he removed his tie and jacket and threw them to the side, slipping off his leather shoes as well. He pulled his feet up onto the sofa and returned to hugging Jon. "A nasty man didn't like me and your Mama being together, he was angry that your mama didn't love him and so he hurt her to hurt me. And mama was too hurt to be saved by the maesters at the hospital. But it didn't hurt, she was asleep," he explained tenderly.

"I hate him, I'll kill him, papa! I'll kill him!" Jon roared with a ferocity and hatred that Rhaegar had never imagined his humble son could be capable of possessing. Rhaegar pulled his son back from his chest and stared at Jon sternly, gripping him tightly.

"You'll do no such thing, Jon Stark-Targaryen, you'll do no such thing. Your mother would be broken-hearted to see you become so wrapped up in revenge. We will get it, Jonny, but not that way. We shall not sink to that man's level, ok? Don't let hate consume you, son," Rhaegar's tone became more tender and he pressed a kiss to his son's forehead and held him as he sobbed.

The night was a long one in the household that night. Jon crept into his father's room, calling for his Mam as he so often did after having a nightmare. The small boy padded in wearing his Spider-man pyjamas and slippers and clambered onto the king's sized bed where his parents slept under blue, floral sheets. He slipped into the cold, empty side next to his sleeping fair-haired father and poked him. "Mmmm, what's wrong, Jonny?" Rhaegar murmured, half asleep.

Jon wrapped his arms around his father's narrow, cotton clad torso and whispered, "is mam really dead, papa?"

Rhaegar opened his eyes and sighed, feeling the crushing weight of Jon's words on his heart. As he slept, he had dreamt of his dear wife, alive and intelligent and breathtakingly beautiful. He had prayed to both the Seven Gods of his family and the Old Gods of Lyanna's and Jon's, as well as reaching out to the Lord of Light from the eastern continents, that it had all been a horrible nightmare and that when he woke, his Lyanna would be asleep by his side, ready to be awoken with a kiss.

He nodded sadly and bid the tears from his eyes.

"Ok, papa. We'll be ok won't we? Mam will always be with us, won't she?" He whispered.

"Of course, Jonny. Your mama will always be watching over us. You may not be able to see her but she'll always be here." Rhaegar tapped on Jon's chest over his heart. Jon smiled tiredly and curled up under that duvet and against his father's chest.

"Uncle Ned said that Starks never truly die and leave us because a wolf will never leave their pack. He said that Starks are as strong as winter winds," he whispered as he drifted into an uneasy sleep. Rhaegar smiled softly at the boy and his words. Ned always knew what to say to his children and his nieces and nephews. They had been friends since childhood, ever since they had met at Arryn summer camp when they were ten. Rhaegar remembered how after his mother and father, Rhaella and Aerys, had died when he was only seventeen, Ned took him out before they climbed to the top of their apartment block in Winterfell and watched as the sun rose over the horizon with a shared bottle of scotch in their hands. "I'm sorry, Ray. Your father was a prick but your mam; she was a wonderful woman," Eddard said after taking a swig from the bottle before handing it back to violet eyed teen.

"I miss her already, Ned. She was only person other than Dany that I could stand in my family- ok maybe Uncle Aemon isn't too bad but I never see him. I won't be able to cope. How am I supposed to look after Dany and Vis when I can barely look after myself," Rhaegar pleaded.

"Brother, why don't you ask the Mormonts to look after Dany- you know how much that Jorah kid loves her and Jeor is a good man, he'd be happy to help. And Viserys is as big a twat as your old man and is at boarding school, isn't he? So you don't have to worry about taking care of him. And I'll look after you Ray, I always have and I always will. My dad likes you and my mam, Brandon doesn't really care about me or my friends and Lyanna adores you- probably more than I'm ok with," Ned pulled his friend into a side hug as they chuckled.

"Thank you, Ned."  
Ned just smiled in reply.

 

 

 

"I love you, Jon," Rhaegar whispered into his son's hair. He swore that he heard his son breathe, "I love you too, papa."

 

-

 

Jon loved going on holiday and as he and his father wandered around the ruined city of Valyria with his siblings ahead of them, he was utterly mesmerised. He knew the story of Valyria, so did every other child that had attended primary school.

_A thousand or so years ago, the city of Valyria was a metropolis of its day, it being one of the largest cities in the Valyrian Empire. One day however, while the city was buzzing with civilians and merchants, a large earthquake struck and the grand volcano that sat atop the hill overlooking the city erupted. Within minutes, the city was shrouded in darkness as the thick ash cloud covered the sky and the lava streamed into the city. The temperatures were so high that the inhabitants were turned into ash where they stood or lay or sat. All that was left of the city was the ruins and its mummified people._

"You're a very strange child, Jon," Rhaenys had said to him while he rambled on about the history of the site.

"How so?" Jon tilted his head and asked. His half-sister laughed and threw her dark hair over her shoulder. Because of her Dornish mother and heritage, her skin was a fair bit darker than his- as was Aegon's- so many people had no clue that they were siblings. There was also quite a big age difference between them- eight years, while there were six years between him and Aegon.

Rhaenys smiled at her younger brother and ruffled his thick, dark hair while he pouted.

"Oh Jon, I'm not being mean; I just mean that you are very interested in subjects that I wouldn't expect a ten year old to be in to," Rhaenys said softly and smiled.

Jon shrugged, "I-I like history. Me and my best friend Sam always read books together." Rhaenys placed her hand on Jon's shoulder and gently squeezed.

 

 

 

 

Rhaegar kept his pace slow as he and Jon wondered around the ruined city. The boy's little legs couldn't keep up with his normal, brisk stride and he wanted to to actually enjoy the city and take in its melancholic beauty. The once beautiful city, the pride of the Valyrian Freehold, was now little more than a maze of rock at the bottom of a dormant volcano. He smiled at Jon but he knew that the smile didn't reach his eyes, hopefully Jon won't notice.

Ahead of them were Aegon and Rhaenys, his eldest son on his phone playing probably texting his boyfriend while Rhaenys took pictures with her new Canon, presumably for a college project. He felt the bite of nostalgia at his chest and pull at his heart. He guessed that this would be the final holiday where he and his children would be together: Rhaenys would soon be leaving for university in Oldtown and Elia had told him that she planned on moving to Braavos for work and would be taking Aegon with her, he had argued of course but he finally agreed; in the current state he was in, he was just about looking after himself and Jon had been spending most of his time in the north with Ned.

Jon smiled at his father brightly and Rhaegar was unable to not smile back. The way Jon looked at him; it was as though he were looking at a god of some sorts. _My son is too kind for this world._

They travelled through the town with Jon rambling on about random things and Rhaegar trying his best to reply with enthusiastic questions and answers. They travelled down a basement of what would have been a tavern of sorts, and looked at the statuesque people. The air was still and the temperature was much cooler than the outside, it seemed that the Valyrian sun's grip couldn't penetrate the thick stone walls.

"Over a thousand years ago, these people were alive and breathing in this exact spot," Jon whispered. Rhaegar didn't reply but stared at the people. There were five of them in the corner of the room, cowering. Two were the size of teenagers, two were obviously adults and one was an infant being embraced by one of their parents.

"Dad, look. These can be Rhaenys and Aegon, that can be you and me and- mam," Jon pointed. Rhaegar nodded. Some time passed while Jon read the glass information boards on the walls and Rhaegar gazed at the statues.

"Don't they look at peace?" He thought aloud, "sometimes I wish that was me."

Jon looked over from the board telling the story of the excavation of the site they were standing in, "what did you say, dad?" The boy walked back to his father and hesitantly slipped his soft hand into his father's larger and rougher one. His father gripped back and silently wiped the tear that had slipped from his eye.

"I didn't say anything, son. Don't worry. Let's go and find Aey and Rhae; they'll probably be wondering where we are."

 

-

 

It was a cold day, in the dead of winter. Jon, now sixteen, lay on his bed with his girlfriend Ygritte. The latter stroked Jon's curly hair that he had recently cut to around ear length. The ginger haired girl sighed and pressed a soft kiss to Jon's forehead, between his eyebrows.

"What?" Jon murmured with his eyes closed.

"Nothin', its just that I miss your longer hair. I still don't get why you chopped it all off. It was so beautiful and extremely sexy," Ygritte mumbled into the side of her boyfriend's neck. Jon sighed,

"I look too much like my father with long hair."

"What's so bad about that? Your dad must be a dilf," Ygritte joked and received a roll of the eyes from Jon. The dark haired boy sat up from Ygritte's lap and leant back against the wall. His girlfriend got the hint and leant back and slipped her hand into Jon's.

"My father is a good man but ever since my mam passed, he hasn't been the father I really need," Jon said softly.

Ygritte eyes widened, "shit. I'm sorry, love. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I don't want you be upset." She held Jon's chin in a gentle caress so that she could tenderly kiss the boy's roughened lips.

Jon shook his head, "no, it's fine. I think that I need to speak about how I feel. I can feel it fizzing away inside of me without a way out. I might explode."

Ygritte waited for Jon to continue.

"My mam died when I was about eight, you know that. Before then, my father was a brilliant man- a brilliant dad. But in the years after mam, he was a different man but you'd expect that- I mean his wife of like ten years had just died. But he became depressed and withdrawn and even though I needed a dad, he just continued in a daze of work and exhaustion. But I was too young to understand. You know? I couldn't understand why my father was so broken, I was too young to get it. I got why my father dropped winter roses religiously at my mother's grave every month on the day of her death but I didn't get why it meant that I wouldn't see my father for more than a couple of minutes until the next month. And the worst thing was- my father has still never told me what actually happened to her. From what my father, and others told me, my mother was killed by one of her exes who was angry at her for marrying my father. But I can't understand why he's so broken until I know what happened to her

"When I was ten, my father left me alone for three days with only a tenner to get food while he went off somewhere- it would've been longer but my father's ex-wife came over to talk about taking Aegon and Rhaenys to Dorne for a few weeks and found me. Then I moved in with my mother's family in Winterfell for a while."

"Oh gods, Jon." Ygritte gasped and squeezed his hand tightly.

"Yeah, it was rough. But it was after we all went to Valyria for a holiday that things went severely downhill. Aegon and Elia moved to Braavos, Rhae went to university in Oldtown, I moved back to King's Landing. My father became more withdrawn and into himself and for three years I tried to help him or get him help but he refused; he was too proud. My aunt Dany and Uncle Vis came home from abroad to try and help but it was no use. He'd just take a few bottles of wine up to his room and spend hours doing gods knows what: watching films, writing poems, looking at pictures of my mother. If I tried to go into the room, he'd scream until I left; so I went a bit wild and did anything in my power for him to notice me.

"I shoplifted and purposely got caught so that the police would have to tell my father and in those moments with the police and social workers; he'd be the father that I knew- stern but kind. For those moments, he'd be my dad again and for the rest of the night I'd feel as though I had succeeded and I'd feel so damn pleased but then morning would come and he'd go back to how he was. By fifteen, I was so fed up of having to humiliate myself just to have him back that I moved back to Winterfell to be with my Uncle Ned and Auntie Catelyn and my cousins. I don't plan on moving back until Rhae comes back from travelling in Essos. I can't be alone in that goddamn house with him."

"So when was the last time you saw your father?" Ygritte said after a minute or so.

Jon ran his thumb over his girlfriend's slightly bruised knuckles- the result of punching a sexist man who was stupid enough to heckle her in the street. "I saw him at Christmas so maybe eleven months ago? I don't know. I might take a trip down with Robb at Christmas to see him, I don't know."

Ygritte nodded and kissed Jon deeply, with her heart barely containing the unnamable but all consuming emotion that she felt for him.

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I promise, okay?" The girl said in her strong northern voice. Jon smiled tearfully at the ginger girl who had free-folk blood pumping through her veins.

"Aye, I know. I love you Ygritte, I don't know what I'd do without you and I'm sorry for ruining the night," he mumbled quietly and sniffed back the tears.

"You can cry to me, Jonny. I love you. You can cry."

And in that moment, Jon remember that he was a sixteen year old boy.

 

-

 

The summer breeze drove the scent of flowers and fresh grass drifting through the air. The aroma snuck in through every crack possible and flooded the noses of all passersby. The park was in full bloom and alive with vibrant reds and blues and yellows and greens. Children giggled as they blew bubbles and teen chatted as they ate ice creams under the great trees; dogs panted and barked and birds tweeted from deep within the treetops. The annual Wolfswood summer fête was well in its swing.

But neither Jon Stark-Targaryen nor Rhaegar Targaryen were celebrating. They sat in the car in the car park overlooking Lyanna's grave with fresh winter roses in Rhaegar's lap for the tenth anniversary of her murder.

The Starks had planned to come the following day to pay their respects but in the brief time that Jon had before going to Castle Black University, he had decided to spend a week or so with his ageing father. Rhaenys and Aegon had travelled back to Westeros to pay their respects but they had already left to give the father and son some time to talk.

"You ready?" Jon asked cautiously. Rhaegar didn't reply. "Look, I can't be dealing with this today. It's mam's day and I want it be able to remember her without your fucking attitude with me ok?" Jon said sternly.

Rhaegar shrugged and went to open the car door but it was locked by Jon, "stay in the car and wait, I there's just some things I have to say. Don't you know I miss her too? I miss her just as much as you."

Rhaegar turned open mouthed and wide eyed, "you couldn't possibly understand the way I feel. I was married to your mother for ten years! You don't understand what happened-"

Jon banged his hands on the steering wheel in frustration, "no I don't know because you never told me! I'm eighteen years old, I deserve to know what happened to my mother!" Jon ran his hand through his chin length hair. Rhaegar rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed painfully, "you really want to know?"

Jon nodded, "yes. I want to know."

Rhaegar leant his head against the seat and get out a shaky breath. He twiddled with the silver wedding band on his finger and ran his fingers along the hem of his white shirt.

"Well. What I've told you is true. Lyanna was killed by a jealous ex. His name was- is Robert Baratheon and he was an old friend of your mother and uncle- and he was my friend. But he had been infatuated with Lyanna since they were children and before your mother and I got married, they were engaged- I was still married to Elia but we divorced soon after when I realised that I loved your mother.

"Lyanna broke up with Robert at the same time I guess, but she had been pregnant at the time and Robert thought it was his child although Lyanna said it was mine. We decided to abort it because we weren't ready to have a child but Robert was furious and no matter how many times we told him that he wasn't the father, he didn't believe us.

"Once you were born, we didn't hear from Robert again for many years. We heard from Ned that he had moved back to Storm's End and he must've stayed there for many years. You must've been about five years old when we went to the stormlands for a holiday, the three of us, and we ran into Robert and his brother Renly and Renly's boyfriend Loras. Robert was polite to us and easily chatted with Lyanna and myself, he even spoke with you and we thought that he had moved on; but he hadn't. After that, he started messaging her on Facebook constantly, so she blocked him. Then he found her phone number and kept bombarding her with calls and texts so she changed her number but he still managed to get her new ones.

"I told her just to get Ned to sort him out but she was too proud to do so, so I told Ned and Brandon and they spoke to him and he stopped for a couple of months but came back again, but this time he kept saying that you were his son and made up rumours about him and Lyanna having a fling. It drove us mad so we left you with your uncle and went to Yunkai for a week to get away from it, when we came back we found out that Robert had moved back to King's Landing. So when I saw him in a pub, I beat him up and threatened him so he'd stop harassing us. We were fed up of being harassed by Robert so your mother and I began to make arrangements to move to my parents' old house in Summerhall but a couple of days before we were supposed to move, he killed your mother.

"She was walking home from her friend's house at night when he pulled her into an alley and r-r-r-"

"He raped her and murdered her," Jon finished in a whisper and wiped at the tears streaming from his eyes like a waterfall. He sniffed and wiped his nose with a piece of tissue and looked at his crying father with puffy, reddened eyes. "How? How did he do it?"

Rhaegar stared at his son, "he strangled her and stabbed her but not before being stabbed a few times by Lyanna. She put up one hell of a fight, she bit off one of his ear lobes and blinded him in one eye."

Jon half smiled at the thought of his mother being the fighter that she always was. She hadn't died weak, she was as strong as ever. A cloud of melancholy had settled in the small car and neither father nor son could find the strength to break it. They say in silence, both privately reminiscing about the woman whom they had loved and lost. Lyanna stark was always a strong soul. A goddess of old with hair as black as obsidian and eyes as warm as fire. She was a woman of the North, a descendant of the Winter Kings and Queens of medieval Westeros, she was a lawyer who had successfully sent people like her murderer to prison for the rest of their pitiful lives, she was the bravest person who had walked the earth.

"She was a fighter to the end," Jon whispered.

"She'd never be any other way."

 

-

 

"D'you remember the time that mam got drunk and sang the national anthem of Pentos after a bet with Uncle Viserys? He was so annoyed but the look on mam's face when he have her that tenner was amazing," Jon smiled as he remembered. Rhaegar smiled sadly and nodded. They were now sat on the warn bench that overlooked Lyanna's grave. Rhaegar and Jon had both put the fresh winter roses on the crypt to replace the dying ones.

"Your uncle Viserys was such a cocky arsehole."

"He still is," Jon laughed and Rhaegar choked on a chuckle. Even the hint of a laugh was more than Jon had heard in years.

They fell back into silence with only the wind making any noise upon the hill. Rhaegar's greying hair fluttered in the breeze, a wild mane. His purple eyes were tired and dark rings hung beneath them; he was a lot paler than when Jon had seen him the previous Christmas but he seemed more settle too. Last time, his thoughts and mood had been all over the place, Jon had been unable to hold even a simple conversation without him trailing off on a rant or just simply not replying.

"When we were young, I used to spend a lot of time at your grandfather Rickard's house because I couldn't stand mine. I remember that I was playing Call Of Duty with Ned and your mother walks in and demands that she has a turn. I foolishly say 'you're too young, we'll beat you straight away' but we gave her another controller and within a few minutes, she had thrashed us and destroyed my foolish pride. Honestly Jon, I've never seen anyone play a video game with as much ferocity as your mother," Rhaegar laughed and smiled, the smile brightened the feeling in his Jon's chest. He was happy to see his father enjoy the memories instead of trying to fight them.

"Mam always told me stories about growing up in Winterfell, they were my favourite stories. I adored them. Especially the ones about her and Uncle Ned," Jon pulled his hair back from his face.

"How are your uncle and the kids?" Rhaegar's voice was soft and aged. He was now coming up to his mid fifties.

"They're doing very well, Uncle Ned and Auntie Cat have booked a cruise around the Jade Sea for the autumn. Robb has gone off travelling with his girlfriend Talisa; Sansa is studying in Highgarden; Arya is at a summer camp in Braavos; and Bran and Rickon are still in Winterfell enjoying the summer," Jon reported.

"How is the girl that you were seeing, Yvonne?" Rhaegar asked. Jon smiled but shook his head.

"Ygritte- and no. We broke up a while ago, at the moment I'm seeing a guy called Tormund- and honestly, father, you'd really like him. He's funny and charming and just brilliant. He's in a band called the Wildlings"

"Dad."

"Pardon?" Jon said confused.

"You used to call me dad or papa, I guess that I haven't been much use as a dad," Rhaegar confessed sadly.

"Fa- dad, I-"

"No," Rhaegar interrupted, "I haven't been there for you, and I'm sorry. I've been a terrible dad. I always promised myself that I'd be a better father than my father was but i've failed myself, you and your mother. I'm sorry Jonny." He embraced his son tightly and meaningfully for the first time in almost seven years.

"It's okay, dad. I forgive you. I'll always forgive you." Jon cried into his father's shoulder.

The man felt closer to his father than he had in years. There he was, celebrating the life of his mother with his father, the man he had barely spoken to in years. He knew that his father's fragile mental health wouldn't be cured over night but for the first time, Jon understood. He wondered how he would cope if Tormund or even Ygritte met the same fate as his dear Lyanna; he couldn't even contemplate it. He still held anger towards his father and Robert Baratheon for snatching his childhood away from him and causing him so much pain, but he refused to allow the want for revenge take over. He had seen the way vengeance and clinging to the pain of the past had destroyed the men who had such big influences on his life.

He wanted to be a better man. He wanted to be a different man.

His father's depression and emotional instability would not disappear but he hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to rebuild the relationship with his father that he had for so long been denied of. He wanted to have a father, a real dad. He loved Ned more than anything and could never be able to truly express his gratitude to the man, but he missed Rhaegar.

"Coming back to Winterfell with me tonight?" Jon asked.

"I don't think so. I think I just need some time alone tonight but I'll drive up tomorrow to see everyone. I haven't properly spoken to Ned in ages. I need a change I think," Rhaegar replied and patted Jon's arm softly, "don't worry son, I won't shut myself away again. It's time that I stepped up and became a good father, a good dad."

Jon hugged Rhaegar tightly and allowed himself to open himself up to the man,

"I love you, dad," Jon said tearfully.

"I love you too, son," Rhaegar replied.


End file.
